Of Wine and Chances
by Yas Snape
Summary: Reese gets Finch back from Root, but Harold doesn't want to talk about it. I suck at summaries. Just R&R, please? I might do a sequel, but for now this is a one shot. And thank you so much to Zappy for being my wonderful beta! Oh, the title is hers!


It had been two weeks since Reese was able to rescue Finch from Root with the help of The Machine. They were acting like nothing happened. Well, Finch was acting like nothing happened, because John tried to talk about it a few times just to be shut down with a look.

John Reese wasn't a man of many words, but he knew that talk was very necessary when it came to matters like kidnapping and torture, even for a reserved man like Finch. He wasn't sure if Finch was tortured, not in the physical sense anyway, but John knew torture wasn't just physical and the psychological type could be a thousand times worse. Given all of this, he decided to try again, but through a different method.

"Morning, Harold." – John said while putting the sencha tea cup in front of his boss. – "Any new numbers yet?"

Harold eyed the tea with a bit of suspicion, which made John feel hurt, but he could understand after all he had been through, and that was one of the many reasons why they needed to talk. John needed their routine to go back to what it was. At least as close to what it was as it could be.

"You can drink it, Finch. Here, let me show you." – and with that Reese took a big gulp from the cup. – "See, nothing to it. Although the taste is awful, I don't know how you manage to like this."

"What would become of the blue if everyone liked yellow, Mr. Reese?" – Finch gave a little smirk and drank his tea.

"You haven't answered me yet, Harold. Any new numbers?"

"No, Mr. Reese, no new numbers. It's like crime has stopped in this city. Either that or my machine is broken. The first option is more likely, though."

Reese knew why the numbers were coming at a much slower pace, it was simply the machine giving Finch time off and protecting him, but he wouldn't tell that to his boss.

"Good, since we have no new numbers, I have a proposition for you, Harold."

Finch eyed Reese cautiously. – "Please, go on Mr. Reese."

"I never thanked you properly for your birthday gift. With that in mind, I'd like to cook you dinner tonight."

"That's not necessary, Mr. Reese. Your work is the only token of gratitude I need."

"Cut the crap, Harold. You pay me for the work I do. Besides, this is more for me than for you. I need to do something with all the time off we're getting, and cooking dinner would take my mind off things."

"Alright, Mr. Reese, if you insist… What time do you want me to be there?"

"Hum… Around eight o'clock would be perfect."

"And what, pray tell, will you be cooking? I need to know so I can bring the wine."

"No, no, Harold. This is all on me. I'll pick everything, you just have to go and enjoy yourself."

Finch gave a little snort, doubting that Reese would be able to guess his taste in wine, much less combining the right wine with the food. In his mind this was a man who drank cheap whiskey from the bottle. What could he know about wine? The snort didn't go unnoticed by John and he grinned at Harold.

"What? You don't trust my taste, Mr. Finch? I'm hurt!"

"I doubt the CIA gave you any insight about wine and food, it would be in your file, anyway."

"Oh, is that a challenge I hear, Finch?"

"If you want to take it that way…"

John just looked at Finch, gave a smile and turned to go.

"See you at eight, Harold."

At 7:30 Reese heard a knock on the door. He should have known that Harold would want to catch him off guard and discover what he was cooking so he could still buy the wine if he didn't approve of Reese's choice. Oh, Harold didn't know how surprised he would be. True, John wasn't the most refined of men, but you couldn't survive as a secret agent if you didn't learn about the world you'd be inserted in, and John Reese was, on more than one occasion, forced to work with high class people, so he knew as much about wine and harmonization as any of them. Besides, he liked to indulge in a good wine now and then, he just couldn't afford it while being homeless.

"You're early, Finch." – John said opening the door.

"Sorry, Mr. Reese. If you want I can come back in half an hour."

"Oh, no, you don't. You probably already got the scent of what I'm cooking, so I won't let you go out and buy wine. Come in and sit down while I give the final touches."

Finch got in and started to look around. Reese hadn't changed much of the decoration. The table was already set and it looked rather charming. White cloth, adorned porcelain, silverware and wine glasses. Harold sniffed the air.

"Duck, Mr. Reese? That's very pretentious of you. Duck is one of the hardest things to cook."

"Trust me, Harold, I know." – John raised his voice so Finch could hear him.

"I see you haven't changed much around here."

"Why would I? It's perfect the way it is. You really know my taste."

Finch didn't reply, just took his seat at the table and waited. John came with a tray containing the duck and steamed vegetables. It smelled delicious and Reese was very pleased with himself when he saw Harold take a deep breath and close his eyes. As soon as that expression was there, it was gone, and John decided he wanted to see it more often. For a few seconds Finch looked peaceful and relaxed and something deep within John stirred. He didn't need to analyze what he was feeling, he knew exactly what it was.

Since Harold's kidnapping Reese knew what he felt for his boss wasn't just empathy or camaraderie, it was much deeper. He had felt lost and hurt when Finch was taken, like someone had ripped his heart right out of his chest. And as much as he wanted to tell himself that it was just a sense of duty and gratitude, he was man enough to acknowledge the feeling for what it was. True, he didn't think he would ever fall in love again after Jessica, but the heart has no rules, and now he was in love with his boss. It was a strange notion for him to be in love with another man. He had gone to bed with a few as part of his job and even found it pleasurable, but he never fell in love with them. He served Harold and himself and sat down to enjoy the meal.

"This looks good, Mr. Reese, but where is the wine? I remember you told me that you'd take care of everything."

"Oh, yes. Let's do it like this then, Harold. If you like my wine selection you'll have to call me John for the rest of the evening."

"Aren't you a little overconfident, Mr. Reese?"

John got up and went to fetch the wine. He returned with the bottle hidden behind his back.

"Ready to leave the 'Mr. Reese' behind, Harold?"

"Let's see what you've got, Mr. Reese and then I'll decide."

Finch was very surprised, to say the least, when a bottle of a 2005 Luis Pato appeared in front of him. There weren't many people in the US that knew about this amazing wine, and it harmonized perfectly with the food.

"So, Mr. Reese, where did you manage to find this?"

"I have my sources, Harold. And I believe you should start calling me John."

Finch gave a little grunt and nodded admitting defeat.

The night was going very smoothly and they enjoyed it silently, just savoring the food and wine. It wasn't until they were in the middle of the second bottle that Finch spoke again.

"Just so you know, John, I have a very high tolerance for alcohol."

"And why would I want to know that, Harold?"

"Maybe because you are trying to get me drunk in the hopes that I'll open up to you and tell everything that happened to me while I was being held captive."

There was no point denying it, Reese knew he had been caught, so he decided to go with the truth.

"Well, Harold, maybe I wouldn't have to do this if you just talked to me."

"Didn't you get the hint I've been dropping? I don't want to talk about it, Mr. Reese." – Harold spat out raising his voice.

Reese perceived that Finch wasn't drunk, but he was a little more loose than usual and this might be his only chance to get everything out of him.

"It's John. You agreed to call me John."

"Oh, I'm sorry, John. Where are my manners? I should keep the end of a deal that was only made to make me feel comfortable and talk about things that are better left alone."

"But they're not better left alone, Harold! Can't you see?" – John said getting up and started pacing around. – "I've been where you are and I know it will just kill you slowly if you keep it all inside. I can't have that happening to you, Harold, I just can't!"

"Why does it bother you so much, Mr. Reese? If this does kill me, it would be great for you. You'd be free."

"How can you say that? Can't you see what you've done to me, Harold? You gave me life, you gave me hope and a reason to care again. It bothers me because I care! Not for the numbers, but for you, Harold! AND IT'S JOHN!"

Finch remained silent observing a very red faced John Reese. This was not at all what he was expecting when he came here for dinner. He thought he would eat, show John he was very aware of his motives and leave, but now he felt glued to the spot. He finally managed to find his voice, so he turned to Reese and asked.

"Why?"

"Why what, Harold?" – John slumped in his chair feeling very tired.

"Why do you care, John? How could you care?"

Reese looked at Finch not really believing what he was hearing. How could this man not see how wonderful he was? This made John laugh.

"Why are you laughing? Did I say something funny? Is everything a joke to you?"

Reese reached out across the table and gripped Finch's hand. Harold swallowed hard and started to pull his hand away, but John just held it in place. Hard enough to hold it in place but not so hard as to hurt him.

"You don't see it, do you Harold?"

"What is there to see, John?"

"How wonderful you are. You are beautiful, Harold, and you deserve to be happy."

Finch stared at Reese blankly, mostly because he couldn't believe what he was saying.

"Do you want to know what happened so badly that you'd resort to seducing me, John? I read your file, remember? I know how charming you can be."

"What? I'm not trying to seduce you, Harold! I'm in love with you! Can't you see that?"

"I find that very hard to believe, John. What do I have to offer? I'm a crippled man way past his prime. What is there to love? Besides, even though you have been with men before, I know you are straight. They were only part of your job, right?"

"Yes, Harold, THEY were. You're not. Believe me, I never wanted to fall in love with you, it just makes things more complicated than they already are, but I can't control what goes on in my heart. I've never fallen in love with a man before and it confuses the hell out of me. Besides, I knew this would be one sided anyway. I met Grace, remember?"

This caught Finch off guard. Was Reese really telling the truth? If he was and had no hope of him reciprocating his feelings, why tell him now? He had to make a decision now. He had to decide if he was ready to trust John or not.

"If you knew this would be one sided, why tell me?"

"I don't know, Harold. I just needed to get it out of my chest. I mean, I had to know that I had done everything possible, and that includes telling you about it and receiving a straight no. It's better than keep thinking of 'what ifs' for the rest of my life."

"I see…"

Harold got up and Reese felt his chest tighten so much that he thought he would die. He had ruined everything, Harold would be gone and he would be lost again. Why couldn't he keep his big mouth shut?

Finch had made a decision and intended to stick to it. He got up and walked in the direction of the big sofa facing the windows. He calmly sat down and realized that John hadn't followed him. When he turned to look, he noticed that Reese had his eyes closed tight.

"I'm not going anywhere, John." – Harold said softly. – "You see, you've met Grace, but she's the only one you met. You say that you feel confused. Well, I felt very confused when I fell in love with her, if you could say that I was really in love. I loved her, I really did and still do, but I think I never was really in love with her. When I met Grace I was in a very dark place. I had the weight of the machine on my shoulders and I was lonely. I started to talk to her because those were the people I could talk to, lonely strangers in the park. She became a friend and we became very close. The thing is, I'd never been in love with a woman before. One day she declared she was in love with me and I thought I felt the same, but now I see I was just too lonely. We started dating and eventually I asked her to marry me. Until everything fell apart."

Reese got up from his chair and took a seat beside Finch. He let their thighs touch, but that was it, nothing more. He didn't want to scare Harold away in case he was misunderstanding what he was saying. He wanted so much to believe everything that wasn't said out loud. He wanted to believe that Harold was saying that he loved him too, but he had to be sure.

"What are you trying to say, Harold?"

"What I'm trying to say, John, is that you're not the only one who feels this way. I don't know if we can do anything about it and how much this would affect our dynamics. I'm not willing to let this interfere with our work. The numbers will always come first."

"Harold, you can't say that you feel the same way about me and just leave it at that. This, all of this, has already changed our dynamic. I want to be with you, I want to kiss you and I want to make love to you."

Finch looked at him and saw the truth in John's eyes. No matter how good you were at pretending and lying, what he saw there couldn't be faked. He knew this changed everything, for good or worse he didn't know yet. Right then he decided that, for now, he didn't care and he took a leap of faith.

"So, Mr. Reese." – Finch said and opened up a real smile. – "Are you going to just talk or are you going to do something about it?"

John slowly turned to face Harold with a look of disbelief in his eyes, but it didn't take much time for him to spring into action and kiss Finch with all the passion he had bottled up inside. It was a little awkward at first, Reese was too desperate and Finch was too startled, but as the time passed they found their rhythm and got lost in the kiss until they had to come up for air. They just looked at each other and smiled. John pulled Harold against his chest and decided to just stay there, embracing the man he loved and forgetting about the world outside. Tomorrow they could worry, today it was just about them.


End file.
